New Beginnings
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Secure for the moment on Icarus Station, Riddick, Eileen, and Jack prepare to start their new lives.


Late in the evening again, I know, but here we are. I'm going to try to get at least the first chapter of 'Sight Unseen' typed up Saturday evening so Lynx has time to go over it before the last minute. ^_^ Much thanks to him, as well as to everyone who's reviewed the series redux so far. Enjoy, and let me know what you think! *passes out*

**New Beginnings**

A Seer-verse Story

My keycard unlocked the door of my best friend's home, the scent of Erica's special pot roast wafting out as Rick and I entered. My stomach growled audibly, and she smiled, coming around the counter to hug me. I tried to be careful of her distended middle, not wanting to squish my first godchild.

"I see you made it back in one piece, and with interesting friends to boot." A small gesture pointed out my recently-adopted sister in the sitting area. Jack appeared engrossed in the tablet she held. "Since I'm sure my _dear_ husband forgot, let me welcome you to Icarus Station, Mr. Riddle." Wordlessly, my lover briefly shook the hand she offered.

"What'd you find, Jack?" The twelve-year-old looked up from her reading. "Somethin' good?" I raised an eyebrow as I asked the question.

"_The Buyer's Guide to Ship Design and Building: Merchant Edition_. Thought it might be a good idea t' start figurin' out what we wanna get. An' th' librarian said it's th' latest release, just a couple months old."

"Good idea." With those two words, Rick moved to sit next to her, visibly relieved to have an excuse to put space between himself and a stranger's attention. They bent over the tablet, and Erica chuckled. I accompanied her back into the kitchen.

"Not much of a people person, is he?" The tiny brunette didn't wait for an answer. "But you're happy with him, obviously. You've got that look."

"Yeah, an' Jamie's already done th' over-protective brother bit. I damn near socked 'im for it." My eyes rolled. "In fact, if Rick hadn't grabbed me, he'd prob'ly be sportin' a black eye or somethin'."

"Joy. He'll be a holy terror when our daughter gets old enough to be interested in boys, then." She handed me a stack of plates, getting out glasses and utensils while I started setting the table. "Hopefully I can break him of that behavior in the next dozen years or so."

"Babe?" I poked my head into the living room. "Whatcha wanna drink with dinner?" Jack's mouth opened, but I cut her off at the pass. "_You_ are gettin' milk, young lady. You need it." She deflated.

"Fine with me, too. Too long since I had th' real deal." My mate spoke loud enough for the first part, then pitched the second sentence low enough to keep Erica from making out the words. Not that she would eavesdrop, in any case. Satisfied, I moved to the Cartwrights' cold-box and pulled out the carton.

"Same for us, please, Eileen." I nodded, filling all the glasses. "I popped by the bay Jamie reserved for you to take a look at the ship. Friedrich's will probably give you the best offer for it." And she would know; the station's best luxury shipyard was among the half-dozen companies who paid her to keep their accounting books straight.

"I'll give 'em a call first thing in th' mornin', then." The door opened and closed as I carried a bowl of genuine mashed potatoes to the table and arranged the hot pads for the pan Erica was pulling out of the oven. My red-haired friend entered, kissing his wife on the cheek.

"Sorry about earlier, 'Leen." I raised an eyebrow. "We're dealing with that bastard Chalmers again. He's convinced himself that another maid service's employees are stealing from him."

"How many does that make now? Four different companies we've gone to bat for?"

"Five. He filed charges against one just after you left." The wealthy man's senility was becoming painfully obvious to everyone but him. After he'd taken two companies to court in one year, orders had come down from the head office, from Randy Trent himself, to pick up the defense for the next service Chalmers decided to blame for 'missing' items.

"So… are there any other groups that're gonna risk workin' for him now?" I grinned smugly. Seven services bitten in the space of two and a half years ought to have any sensible person running away.

"Oh, hell, no. Three-quarters of 'em have black-listed him already. By the time we close this case, he'll have to hire an unattached maid. Might as well make it a live-in nurse."

"If any of _them_'ll take their chances with th' crusty ass."

"Who's a crusty ass?" Jamie looked like he wanted to smack me upside the head when Jack spoke. I simply ruffled her hair and steered her toward a chair.

"Old guy who keeps thinkin' his housekeepers're stealin' things that end up bein' found when th' police search his place." She snorted at my response. While she sat down, I shot my friend a 'don't be a prude' look.

_He knows at least __**some**__ of what she's been through. A little coarse language—a lot, even—ain't gonna do any harm. An' she knows most of it already, anyways._

Taking charge, Erica turned the conversation to finding out about the young girl's interests and educational experience. The fork-tender beef, vegetables, and potatoes were distributed as she talked, filling Rick's plate nearly to the spilling point and getting almost as much onto Jack's. Both all but dived in after their first taste, and the brunette smiled as she watched them. She loved seeing people enjoy her cooking.

"If you're going to be wandering around with these two, maybe you should take some placement tests while you're here." The redhead pointed his fork at my adopted sister. "Then it'll be easy to set up a correspondence education for you."

"Mmph." She didn't give him much besides a nod of acknowledgement, her mouth full. My lover held his scraped-clean plate out in a silent request for seconds, and I obliged him. He needed the fuel for his furnace-like metabolism; I had yet to get cold when we shared a bed.

Dinner ended quietly, with Erica giving the empty dishes a slightly surprised look. Usually, when she cooked such a big meal, they had leftovers to put away. With Rick and Jack around, that wasn't gonna happen.

With the table cleared, I joined them in the sitting area to check out the ship options available to us. It didn't take long to put together a light freight setup on the tablet's design program that would leave us in fairly cramped quarters. That wasn't a good idea when we'd be spending most of our time out in the black. Naturally, the mid-bulk hulls offered a lot more space. We'd just blocked out a cockpit and common room when the twelve-year-old yawned. I ruffled her hair.

"Go ahead an' get some sleep, kiddo. We won't be orderin' anythin' before we get th' _Sparrow_ sold, anyway." She nodded and gave me a hug as she got up.

(Riddick)

It startles me when th' kid hugs me briefly before headin' over t' one of th' flat's interior doors. A month an' a half with my woman's done her a world of good, despite th' setback th' holy man caused. But then, bein' a criminologist means Eileen's trained t' deal with mental shit. I always got more of a kick outta yankin' th' shrinks' chains when I was in slam.

I ain't been payin' a whole lotta attention t' th' virtual shipbuildin' program on th' tablet Jackie-girl brought back from th' library. A slight jab from a small elbow recalls me t' th' task, though, an' my mate points a th' schematic for th' upper deck. Lotsa space there.

"I figured we'd put somethin' between our cabin an' hers, give her a little more privacy. Just don't know what." She's got a passageway extendin' along th' ship's spine aft of th' main room, with two cabins an' fairly roomy attached heads on one side. I think th' crazy bitch's posh jumper's spoiled us some. Not that I've complainin', 'cause I like havin' access t' clean, hot water when I want it an' bein' able t' take my time washin' up.

Opposite th' rooms, Eileen's put in a fair kitchen an' laundry area, a little infirmary, an' a nice-sized workout room that'll fit equipment an' still have sparrin' space. There's just one other thing I c'n think of that'd be good t' have.

"Machine room." She raises an eyebrow. "One, it'd be cheaper t' make replacements for or repair our own parts. Two, custom weapons work with no traceability." Her eyes gleam. "Throwin' knives, concealed shit, lock pick belt buckles…"

"Gotcha." With a few touches an' a growin' smirk, th' space quits bein' a blank. A quick glance at th' lower deck shows water an' fuel tanks, an' a cargo hold that c'n be accessed from outside or by stairs comin' down from th' aft end of th' upper corridor. Boardin' hatch is in th' common area.

"Looks good t' me." That gets me a smile, an' my lover saves th' diagram before shuttin' off th' tablet. Then th' redhead sits down in a chair facin' us.

"All right, 'Leen, what's with Stone-Man?"

"I mentioned th' mercs that picked th' skiff up… There was a freaky, crazy woman in charge of 'em; she said 'jump' an' they were on th' way up 'fore they asked 'how high?' Her 'hobby' was catchin' most-wanteds an', instead of turnin' 'em in for th' bounties, usin' a weird kinda cryo on 'em an' displayin' 'em like statues." I see th' guy shudder at th' idea. "Slowed their bodies, but not their minds."

"She said she'd thought that 'un was th' last of his kind. An' that 'now' she had two more—called us 'a breedin' pair.'" I pick up a bit of th' story t' give Eileen a moment t' collect herself.

"Mentioned twice that th' rest of 'our kind' had been massacred, that he'd survived 'cause she had him. An' if he _is_ like us, there's so much he could tell us 'bout where we come from, what we are." Still, th' knuckles of her clenched fists've gone white, an' I snake an arm 'round her waist. She relaxes a little. "I couldn't pass that chance up, Jamie, or leave him there for God only knows how long."

"No, no, I can see that. Jesus, that woman must have been a grade-A psychopath." Th' man shakes his head. "Any idea how long it will take for the drugs to leave his system?"

"Not a clue. Th' cryo chief for th' ship was press-ganged an' couldn't access th' formula, though she did say Chillingsworth dosed him every year, three times as often as th' others. But that's all we know." My mate shivers again, turnin' her head into my shoulder, an' I c'n smell her horror. I let my thumb stroke her side a bit, calmin' th' outward signs of distress. "I think I oughtta go talk t' him, explain some stuff. Well, talk _at_ him, really." Cartwright points at a door, an' she stands right up.

I'd go with her, but I'm gettin' th' feelin' she wants, maybe needs, t' do this alone. So I give her hand a little squeeze 'fore lettin' go. She smiles at me a bit, then heads for th' other room, leavin' me alone with th' man that obviously considers her t' be his little sister.

"Did you really mean what you said?" I feel an eyebrow rise at his question. "Back in the hangar. You wouldn't leave Eileen?"

"Hell. Fuckin'. No." My growl makes his eyes go wide. "I'd fight my way back t' her if I had t' go all th' way 'cross th' damn galaxy." That, I c'n tell, surprises him. Several minutes pass 'fore he speaks again.

"The lawyer in me wants to turn you in. But the part of me that watched Eileen grow up isolated from others her age because of her brains and her abilities, that wants her to be happy, says to keep my mouth shut. So as long as you do right by her, you have nothing to worry about from me." Cartwright leaves then, an' I lean back t' figure this out.

Twists an' turns. People keepin' quiet that I though woulda gone squawkin' t' th' cops.

Interestin'.

(Marcus)

He could sense the young Veruna's powers as the door opened and turned his eyes toward her. She looked better than she had aboard the _Kubla Khan_; clean, rested, and relaxed. And the mating bond that had only tenuously connected her to the Riddick scion had strengthened, as though they'd consummated it. Probably had, to tell the truth. It was just the way the bond worked. Because of what the Lady had told him, he strongly doubted he'd get to have a mate himself.

"I suppose you c'n hear me," she began. "My birth mother named me Eileen Raine 'fore she left me with th' couple who adopted me." Then she reached for a control panel by the door, dimming the lights and then removing the dark glasses over her eyes; they were a peaceful blue-gray. "I know next t' nothin' 'bout her, an' even less 'bout my birth father."

_Rayne. So she __**does**__ have a proper Furyan name, just not one she uses every day. And the eyes of a Prime Alpha._

Young Riddick would have the same signature silver gleam in low light, of course. When Marcus had been captured, it had been more than two generations since a member of that line had failed to show the relatively rare trait.

"At least I had five days with her." The lean woman slumped into a chair that the lawyer had brought in a few days earlier, one hand rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Somethin' tells me that Rick's mom was killed, an' her murderer tore him from her womb an' tried t' kill _him_, too. Failed t' do that, of course."

Lady preserve. Any Furyan worth their salt knew that a Prime Alpha's eyes developed their shine during the first few days of nursing. Some would surely assume that she had taken a _normal_ Alpha as her mate, that there hadn't been a Prime male for her.

"I guess that's why his shine's different, why his eyes don't adjust… why they changed when he was in Butcher's Bay an' not earlier." Eileen locked stares with him. "We want, _need_, t' know what we are, where we came from. I'm hopin' you c'n tell us as Chillingsworth's chemical cocktail gets outta your system."

_Damn you, Antonia, for trapping me like this when they need every scrap of information I can give them._

The urge to obey and assist any Alpha, especially a Prime, went down to the genetic level in all the other ranks. If Marcus could have whimpered with frustration, he would have.

(Eileen)

I hadn't expected to see the stranger's brow furrow. When I leaned forward, he blinked both eyes. A much slower blink than would be normal, probably, but movement nonetheless.

"I'd like t' know your name. Maybe you could blink when I hit th' right letter? An' twice on th' last one, if you can?" After a moment, I launched into the alphabet.

Marcus.

Through many questions and blinks, he confirmed that Rick and I were Furyan, and that the 'Furya' from his stand on the _Kubla Khan_ referred to our homeworld, where our ancestors had evolved into a subspecies of _Homo sapiens_ because of the environment. A yawn interrupted my next question, and I shook my head.

"I guess that's gonna be it for tonight; I'm done in." I stood and put a light hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for what you've been able t' tell me so far." The corners of his mouth lifted minutely, and I left the room, leaving the dimmed lights on.

My mate had sprawled across the bed in the guest room, and I immediately joined him, curled up and half-covering his chest. His arms came around me as moisture tracked down my face. I rarely gave in to tears, but having the knowledge I'd yearned for since I first realized that I was different so close and yet so far away shook me to the core.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked quietly, one hand rubbing my back. "What'd he tell ya t' get ya so upset?"

"He—Marcus—he's like us. Furyan." I told him what I'd been able to figure out. "But it… I'm havin' t' play twenty thousand questions cause'a that damn cryo junk." He hummed in understanding. "I've wanted t' know 'bout where I came from an' who I am for so long, an' it's gonna take _forever_ at this rate."

"It'll get better, babe." My lover kissed my temple, then rolled onto his side, stroking my arm. His hand wandered from there to my hip, and then up my back, beneath my shirt.

Rick's touch coaxed my mind away from all my problems and anxieties, eventually soothing me into sleep.

(Riddick)

A blessin' wrapped in a big fuckin' curse.

I could strangle this Marcus guy, 'cept that'd upset Eileen more. An' she knows I can't stick around th' station long 'fore somebody recognizes me an' th' mercs start comin' after me again. Maybe we c'n come up with a list of questions for Cartwright t' ask, an' update it as we get answers. Or just have him let us know when th' guy's able t' actually talk.

I shift a bit, pullin' my woman close an' flippin' th' covers over us both. I need sleep just as much as she does… prob'ly more, since I couldn't get back t' sleep after that damn dream last night.

An' then there's th' godmother thing. I don't really know what th' term's s'posed t' mean, seein' as I never had one, but it's important t' her. Which means we'll be here at least 'til her friend's kid is born.

As long as it happens 'fore mercs start trackin' me again, I'm not gonna complain.

Curlin' 'round Eileen's smaller body, I bury my nose between her shoulder an' neck, inhalin' deep as my eyes close. Her scent makes it easier for me t' relax an' sleep.

Issues c'n wait 'til mornin'.

(Eileen)

As Erica had predicted, Friedrich's Fine Spacecraft all but pounced when I offered them the chance to purchase the _Sparrow_. A few other dealers took an interest as well, turning the relatively simple sale into a brief bidding war. Unfortunately for them, the smaller companies just couldn't compete with Friedrich's final offer of an even two million UDs. Having seen the general prices of the ship type we wanted to get, I knew we'd be able to purchase our new home without dipping into my personal funds.

Start-up costs for our courier business were not nearly so concrete. I hadn't discussed a name with my mate or Jack yet, but I'd mostly decided on some combination of our first initials, followed by 'Expedited Courier Service.' So, a week into our stay on Icarus Station, the three of us sat down to make some decisions.

"I can't think of anythin' else we oughtta have on th' new ship." My adopted sister had made a few minor tweaks to the design I'd worked up the first night, but seemed otherwise pleased with it. One request had been for the latest and greatest instruments and controls in the cockpit.

I thought I knew why she'd asked for them; the edge of the library reader tablet she spent the most time with said _Piloting for Beginners_. With study and practical lessons from me and Rick, she could have a basic pilot's license, the kind I had, within a few years. But the equipment told me that she aimed to eventually get the much more difficult commercial license. So I'd okayed the switch before sending the rough interior plan to one of Icarus Station's better custom shipyards.

According to the message they sent back, it would take around ten weeks for them to do the job. I hoped the damn mercs didn't wise up about Rick's survival before then. Or before Erica and Jamie's child arrived.

"Eileen, it's good to see you again. What can I help you with today?" Dr. Ayres sat on the stool by the examination table, her green eyes twinkling at me with her usual good humor. I was taking advantage of Rick and Jack's preoccupation with getting the things we wanted to keep from the _Sparrow_ to cover for the visit.

"I need a hormone regulator," I blurted. She grinned, and I felt my cheeks heat. "A long-term one."

"Ah, so you've finally found a keeper." The older woman's grin widened. She _always_ knew when I was involved with someone; I'd been fourteen when she told me I had a fertility index to rival a rabbit. "Is he good in bed?"

"_God_, yes," I admitted. "But we're starting a small shipping business, and it'll be a while before we get set enough to have kids. Having Jack with us is going to be risky enough for her, but a baby?" I shuddered at the ghastly possibilities my mind conjured. Dr. Ayres just nodded, turning to open the equipment cabinet.

"Very wise decision. Get a reputation established, put defenses on your ship… The things pirates might do to a small child horrify me." When she turned back toward me, she held a hypo-spray that looked like a twin to the one Junner Front had tried to wield against us back on the _Kubla Khan_. However, I trusted the doctor enough to know she'd never even touch an explosive device, let alone inject one into a patient. So I lifted my shirt at her gesture, gritting my teeth as the spray's cool tip pressed against my abdomen.

A hiss escaped me at the sharp sting, and the doctor promptly covered the site with a numbing patch. She watched carefully as I breathed through the pain until the medication took effect. Finally, I sighed in relief, and she relaxed.

"Seen one used with no blockers, I take it?"

"Rick got tagged when he wasn't looking. Side of his neck, took him to his knees. Not fun."

"Sounds like you had quite the adventure in the process of finding this boyfriend and new sister of yours." I snorted derisively. "You said his name is Rick?"

"Yeah. I don't know what inoculations Jack's gotten, but as soon as Scorpio I gets a copy of her medical files to me, I'll bring her in for anything she's missing. Great kid, despite what she's been through, and tough as nails." Dr. Ayres chuckled, moving a scanner over my side. After a moment, she held it still, watching the display.

"Excellent. The implant has anchored itself properly; you may have some irregular spotting for a few weeks while it adjusts to the proper balance. But as of now, you're effectively infertile, so you two can enjoy yourselves." She winked at me, and I grinned back. "Come see me whenever you make port here so I can give you a check-up, alright?"

"Sure thing, Dr. Ayres."

_Let's see how Rick likes it when __**I**__ jump __**his**__ bones._

We sparred with the Sergeants daily, my lover gradually getting used to being around people who knew who he was but treated him like a normal person. Before long, Jack decided to tag along and took to Drift's beginner-level training like a duck to water. All three of us got semi-frequent lessons on basic medicine, obviously intended to help us stay as self-sufficient as possible while we wandered the galaxy.

About seven weeks into our stay, Drift sat met and Rick down in the dojo's office instead of going on into the private salle. While I wondered what was up, he got a slim folder out of a drawer and pushed it across the table. My mate flipped it open briefly, then closed it again.

"I've been doin' some diggin', mostly through my old logs, lookin' for anythin' I could find on Furyans. Can't believe I completely forgot 'bout this." A thick envelope joined the folder on the table. "Garryn Fayren left it with me just 'fore he left th' 'toon, said I'd know who t' give it to." Nodding, I picked it up, turning it over in my hands several times. "I'd say t' wait 'til you're out in th' black t' open it."

"Yeah. I've got a sneakin' suspicion that it'd be bad for others t' know 'bout us bein' connected to that stuff at all." In fact, the mere thought of the possibility made me nauseous. The contents of that old-fashioned paper envelope were intensely personal and private, and I didn't want to share them with any but Rick and Jack.

(Riddick)

I dunno _what_ I did t' earn Eileen's presence in my life. Before th' crash on that fuckin' hellhole, I only had a vague idea of what 'love' meant. Now… Now, I'd rather die than lose her. I'd give my own life t' save hers. An' there's little I wouldn't do t' protect her an' Jackie-girl.

Sergeant Callahan taps out; he's been testin' my ground game today, as though that needs any work. I let him up, an' he moves t' sit on a padded bench in one of th' salle's corners. Joinin' him, I watch my woman sparrin' with Drift. Th' blunted, padded replicas of her daggers are a blur, an' th' old man c'n barely get into arms' reach. She's only made a couple slight modifications t' th' hilts, but th' results are nothin' short of brilliant.

"Never thought I'd see you fall for anyone, but you've got it bad for her, don't ya, Rick?" I hum an' nod, barely payin' attention t' my former instructor. "She used t' seem… lonely, despite Cartwright's friendship an' th' occasional casual boyfriend. But that's gone now, been gone from th' moment th' two of ya walked in—when she got me with that damn rubber ball."

I snort, amused. _That_ had been fuckin' funny. I'd only managed t' hit th' older Sergeant once on th' arm 'fore th' collection of objects by th' main door disappeared.

Speakin' of balls, there's one sittin' against th' wall nearby. It's a bit bigger than my fists doubled up, an' I reach over t' grab it. It's made from some kinda flexible plastic an' inflated. An idea poppin' into my head, I shift it over t' my right hand.

"Rick, don't—" I pitch it toward th' pair on th' mats as Callahan starts t' protest. Barely lookin' over her shoulder, my lover turns her hands in th' leather loops on her practice blades, lettin' them hang across th' backs while she catches th' ball. Then she fires the damn thing right back at me, not waitin' t' see if it hits me 'fore she goes back t' jab at Drift. It hits my stomack hard enough t' knock th' wind outta me.

"—give her any ammunition." Th' lanky man beside me finishes his warnin' in a dry voice. "Lemme guess, you haven't seen her in action with that rifle we got for her."

"One shot's all." Th' speed she'd shown when she brought th' firearm t' bear an' shot th' grue I'd missed sneakin' up behind me had been impressive. Took her maybe a second, two at th' most.

"Kid, you ain't seen _nothin'_. I'd put her up against th' best Company sharpshooter I've ever met any day." Callahan chuckles t' himself as Eileen puts his partner down on th' mats again. "Bergenhaus, range." She stands an' nods, pausin' just long enough t' hang up th' practice blades in her locker before goin' into another room. Th' Sergeants lead th' way through a different door, into an observation booth. I c'n see my woman on th' other side of th' glass, getting' out a rifle an' loadin' four spare magazines. Th' cabinet practically disappears when she closes it.

"Simulator online." Drift leans against th' wall as he speaks. "Opponent: three platoons, Company Spec Ops. Situation: enemy ambush. Terrain: rocky, broken, minimal cover." Eileen jacks th' slide, chamberin' a round as a holographic landscape comes up around her.

As she picks off one simulated soldier after another, I gotta make a conscious effort t' keep my jaw from droppin'. It only takes five fuckin' minutes for her t' drop sixty images that acted like th' best troops th' Company c'n field. Hot damn, Callahan's right. She's a _real_ hot hand on th' trigger. Th' only reason she uses most of th' ammo is 'cause she's double-tappin' th' ones she doesn't catch with a headshot th' first time.

An' damn if that doesn't make me horny as hell.

"Not bad, kid," th' older Sergeant says when we're back in th' main part of th' salle. "Not your best time with that many opponents, but we haven't used Company Spec Ops with you on that scale before." He slants his eyes toward me. "Think ya impressed Rick." She grins at me, an' I _know_ she's gonna give me a bad time 'bout that later.

Prob'ly when she jumps me—or when I jump her. Whichever one of us is faster when we get back t' th' Cartwrights' flat. I figure she's gotten somethin' t' prevent any… consequences, since I hardly get a chance t' grab anythin' before we get too involved t' think 'bout that kinda stuff. Seems like she usually thinks ahead that way.

She manages a whole helluva lot better than _I_ do.

"Your turn, Rick." I blink for a moment, starin' at Drift while my mind switches tracks t' process his words. "We'll let you get a feel for th' rifle's sights first, then run you through a slightly different sim."

Oh, damn. I've gotten outta th' habit of targetin' things with a gun; on th' rare occasion that I use one, I shoot from th' hip. I'm rusty, an' th' Sergeants are gonna give me hell 'bout it.

Th' cabinet inside ain't hard t' find, thanks t' th' little red light blinkin' by th' handle. I load up six magazines—one for adjustin' t' th' sights, an' five for th' simulation. Th' light goes out when I close th' cabinet, an' a standard practice target shows up on th' far side of th' room, lookin' like it's at fifty meters from th' white line on th' floor.

_Here we go._

(Eileen)

I leaned on the sill of the observation window, watching my lover. He used most of a clip zeroing the sights, then ejected what was left and popped in a fresh magazine. I looked at Sergeant Drift, wondering what he had in store for Rick.

"Combat mode. Opponent: three platoons, Alliance Marines Spec Ops." I raised an eyebrow. Marines were a sizeable notch above the Company. "Situation: enemy ambush. Terrain: old-growth forest, little underbrush, heavy leaf litter."

From the booth, the wide tree trunks appeared ghostly, allowing me to see the whole room. From my mate's point of view, though, they might as well have been solid wood. Given the 'leaf litter' and the fact that it was a _firearms_ simulator, his usual hand-to-hand tactics wouldn't work, and he knew his ammunition was limited.

Rick took his time about it, carefully aiming from behind trees and changing cover after every group of shots. It probably helped that the holographic Marines stayed in fire teams of two or three, watching each other's backs, instead of the Company's 'every man for himself' approach. His total time for sixty kills ended up at just over nine minutes, with about as many near-misses from enemy fire as I had gotten in my sim run.

"Not too shabby, kid," Callahan told him. "Some rust that needs t' be knocked off, but it's been a while since you used a rifle or a pistol on a regular basis, I'm bettin'." My lover inclined his head, acknowledging that the Sergeant was right. "How much longer d'ya think you'll be on th' station?"

"Three weeks, maybe a bit longer," I responded. "Not sure when Erica's gonna have th' baby, but we won't leave 'til after th' christening." Both of the older men nodded.

"Gives us some time t' work on that rust, then. I know ya prefer th' up-close-an'-personal approach, Rick, but…" Drift trailed off.

"Gotta be prepared for anythin', I know." The heavily-built man put an arm around me, and I leaned into his side. "Think we're 'bout through for th' day, though." Again, the Sergeants nodded, waving us toward the door.

The hot length nudging my hip told me why he _really_ wanted to leave.

"Do you want to hold her?" Erica asked from the hospital bed. My eyes widened; the baby seemed so small, to me, that I was afraid I'd hurt her. "She's not made of glass, Eileen."

I gingerly accepted the blanket-wrapped bundle, staring at the chubby-cheeked, slightly red face in wonderment. Alexis Theresa Cartwright was less than twenty-four hours old, and she still looked faintly disgruntled by her abrupt entrance into the world. I stroked her cheek, amazed at how soft her skin felt, and she grabbed my finger.

An arm came from behind me to wrap around my waist, my lover's chin just above my ear. His other hand smoothed the baby's fine, dark hair. I felt Rick's awe—he'd probably never seen a child so young, let alone touched one—and longing.

_He'd make such a __**good**__ father, if only we could get rid of the bounties on him._

God knew I wanted to have his child. But the risks were just too high. Any son or daughter of ours would be a merc magnet.

"Someday," I murmured, turning my head to look up at him. With the lights in the room dimmed, he'd taken off his sunglasses, and emotional pain showed in his mercury eyes. "We _will_ have our own someday."

And I knew the statement was true, because my instincts and my vague ability to sense the future both confirmed it. Rick pressed his face into my hair, and I felt a little dampness. Tears that I'd never tell anyone about.

Alexis started fussing, pulling on my captive finger and kicking. I hastily handed her back to her mother.

"Hungry again, are we?" she asked the infant. Erica's free hand went to the buttons on the front of her hospital gown. I panicked a little.

"We'll, uh, come by later, tomorrow, maybe." The other woman gave me a knowing smile. My mate allowed me to drag him out of the room, pausing only to put his shades back on.

"Makes me kinda jealous," Rick admitted once we'd gotten back to the flat. "That they c'n have a kid without worryin' 'bout someone usin' her t' get t' them." He took a seat on the couch and pulled me down into his lap.

"I know, babe. I know."

"So what're we gonna name her?" Jack had practically glued herself to the window between us and our nearly-completed freighter. Workers were busy fusing smart paint to the hull, while others hauled items inside to finish the living areas. "_Hidey Hole_?"

"Nah, that won't work," I replied. "It'd make people wonder what we've got t' hide. It's gotta be somethin' without any negative or suspicious connections." Then I paused. "Nothin's comin' t' my mind, though."

"Packs usually live in dens." Rick's quiet statement caused me to arch an eyebrow in curiosity. "An' we're a pack, th' three of us."

"We'll be on th' move all th' time, too." My adopted sister flashed a lopsided smile. "Wanderers, an' this's our den."

"_Wanderers' Den_." I let the name roll around in my head for a minute, then grinned. "Sounds like a winner t' me."

(Jack)

"You'd better come around and see us often, 'Leen." Jack watched while the redhead, who'd put them up for almost three months, hugged the woman she looked up to. They'd already gotten their stuff aboard the ship, put away where it all belonged.

"Of course I will. You and Erica are family, Alexis too." She rolled her eyes mentally at the sappiness. REJ Expedited Courier Service had a customer lined up, and the twelve-year-old wanted Riddick to start teaching her to pilot the _Den_. Then Cartwright looked over at her and the convict.

"Stay out of trouble, would you? If Eileen gets dragged into something and her name gets associated with… a certain other person's name, it'll ruin her career with MM&T. And then I'll have to come down on you with the biggest hammer I can get my hands on." Most of the half-civil rant was obviously aimed at the big guy, but Jack glared at the lawyer anyway. Riddick added a low, angry growl.

_We're not __**stupid**__._

Since the ship and the business were both in her sister's name, a slip-up could cost them everything. They'd already agreed to discuss contingency plans after _Wanderers' Den_ went into hyperspace. And to look at something Eileen had gotten from the Sergeants.

Jack had rather enjoyed learning martial arts from the two older men. They hadn't pinged her 'male threat' radar, despite its hypersensitivity. So she'd been comfortable enough as they taught her better ways to beat the crap out of idiots.

Finally, the goodbyes were over, and the brown-haired girl bounded through the freighter's personnel hatch ahead of her legal guardian and the most dangerous man in the known universe.

(Riddick)

I chuckle t' myself as th' kid rushed toward th' cockpit. She'll be buckled into th' center couch by th' time I get there, I'm sure. Her enthusiasm is damn funny.

An' that reminds me of th' complete one-eighty my life's taken since Johns put me on th' _Hunter-Gratzner_. If he'd known takin' that ship would result in me goin' almost legit… Well, I figure he's chewin' iron an' spittin' nails in whatever hell he's in. I hope so.

Eileen's the reason I _have_ hope for anythin'. Th' first person I've met since th' Company tried t' bury me who's accepted me as I am. An' she trusts me, too, with everythin'. I didn't realize how much I missed bein' trusted 'til she did. Havin' people willin' t' stay with me, t' stick around for th' long haul, is completely new t' me.

'Family,' Jackie-girl calls it. Eileen's word is 'pack.' Th' animal in me understands th' shorter word an' likes it. A lot.

I take th' pilot's station, explainin' th' pre-flight checks t' th' gangly girl as I go through 'em. She's already proven that she soaks up information like a damn sponge. I give it a year an' a half 'fore she has her basic pilotin' license, maybe two more t' get a commercial one. Gonna be one of th' youngest commercial pilots in a long time, that's for damn sure.

Icarus Station's builders stuck it 'bout halfway between Apollus an' th' system's Oort Cloud, which cuts transit times as well as keepin' it far enough from th' star t' make it comfortable, rather than roastin' th' residents, or needin' massive coolin' systems. Means we get into hyper faster, an' get t' makin' backup plans an' checkin' out th' info Sergeant Drift managed t' find for us. Th' moment th' stars become th' indistinct, mottled gray of hyperspace, I start unbucklin' my crash webbin'.

Jackie-girl claims a plump recliner in th' common area as my mate toes off her shoes an' pads across th' fake tiger pelt toward an equally plump couch for two. I join her, leanin' forward t' prop my elbows on my knees. Time t' get serious.

"Cartwright's got a point 'bout identities," I start.

"You an' I need t' come up with false names we c'n use in case somethin' happens." Eileen frowns in thought as she talks t' th' kid. "They gotta be close enough t' out real names that we'll respond t' 'em, but not so close they give us away."

"Maybe… maybe we take sounds from our real names an' make 'em into th' fakes?" I nod encouragin' that line of thought. "Like, for me, th' k an' y sounds from Jacquelyn, an th' ra from Brandon. Kyra."

_I c'n handle that. Not too complicated._

"Mm. I could use th' l from my first name, an' th' ra from Raine. Put in a y sound 't match yours. Lyra."

"Lyra an' Kyra. Sounds good t' me." They're both startin' t' grin.

"Don't use 'em unless it's an emergency, though," I put in, soberin' th' girl on th' spot. Eileen's still smilin' a bit, but she acknowledges my point with a tilt of her head. Then she pulls _The Envelope_ outta her thigh pocket.

Part of me wants t' hold my breath as she produces a penknife an' slices through th' paper. Th' old-fashioned material crackles a bit as she unfolds th' sheets an' gets ready t' read.

"'I know little about you who will receive this letter…'"


End file.
